


Court (not the Exy kind)

by kayxpc



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andreil, M/M, Neil is a wreck, hurt +comfort, lolas trial, my poor boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:12:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9319151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayxpc/pseuds/kayxpc





	

The summer air made sitting on the edge of the roof muggy and thick with humidity. Andrew let his cigarette burn down to the filter and lit another one, unsatisfied.

He had another dream. He wouldn't call it a nightmare; it was as if he only relived a feeling he once had. He'd been in the Binghamton Bearcats parking lot, clutching an obnoxiously orange duffle to his chest. Kevin's voice behind him - Wymack yelling from the bus- Andrews hands were shaking. It was the keys. _Neil's keys,_ that did it. Neil held onto every one of those keys like they meant something. Like they meant everything. Andrew could see him in his mind, sitting on the rooftop with his stupid sunset colored lanyard around his neck. He played with the keys constantly, remembering every edge and bite of the metal in his palms, every reason to stay.

It took everything he had (and four of his team mates) to stop from choking the life out of Kevin even after he'd gotten answers. He kept repeating this scene, standing in the parking lot.

Lost, lost, lost. That's where Neil was. Andrew never lost anything, not with an eidetic memory, but that night he lost the one thing he let himself want. He hadn't felt that sense of desperation since November, since Drake, and it left him breathless.

He took a drag of his second cigarette and reminded himself that it was over. Neil was downstairs, probably wearing his PSU hoodie even if it is eighty degrees, and snoring.

He probably wouldn't get any sleep before the alarm went off, but he climbed into bed anyway.

-

Neil had his knees pulled to his chest and his back to the corner of the room. He was mumbling, his fists clenched so tight they were stark white against his black joggers. Andrew dangled a little black bag in front of him like a piece of meat. Neil took it hesitantly and opened the shirt he bought him. It was blue, blue like the sky at dusk. Neil was taken aback because Andrew had never bought him anything other than black.

"Blue makes people more inclined to favor you, it is the most commonly liked color. For the jury, I read that somewhere."

Neil didn't know if Andrew had researched this for him or if he knew from experience. He fingered the collar of the shirt, undoing the buttons with shaky hands.

"I should get ready."

Andrew sat on the edge of the bathtub as Neil straightened the collar of the shirt and tucked it into his black slacks. He knew Neil was barely staying above water right now and he would be there when the tide came in. Neil had a white-knuckled grip on the edges of the sink and stared at his reflection. Andrew thought he might punch the mirror any second. He stood up, a step forward brought him right next to Neil in the tiny bathroom.

"Lets go," he said. Neil staring at his features and being reminded of his father was helping no one.

Neil relented his death stare and followed him out. The Foxes promised to meet them outside the courtroom before today's session of the trial. Andrew disobeyed every traffic law though they had plenty of time and arrived early. He put the Maserati in park and looked over at Neil's pale face. He looked like he was going to retch over the leather seats any second now.

"Hey." Andrew said. Neil looked up at him like he might save him from all of this. The way he usually did.

"You can do this," he told him. His voice was unwavering and Neil's expression crumbled underneath the undeserved support. They got out and were escorted into the back to avoid the rabid press. When they entered the main atrium of the courthouse Neil got a little shaky. Andrews face twisted into a sneer at all the pigs in the place. It would take everything he had not to kill Lola today, but he had to remind himself that this was about supporting Neil.

"Andrew," Neil whispered. Even his voice trembled.

Andrew interlaced their hands tightly as they approached their team.

"You ready?" Wymack asked stupidly.

"Of course he's ready," Allison remarked.

"He's got this," Matt said confidently and smiled at Neil.

Neil brightened up a little under their gazes but his hand tensed in Andrews. Their support would make his failure ten times worse.

"We're here for you Neil, whatever you need." Dan said for the millionth time.

Agent Towns peaked his head out of the courtroom door to their left and said "five minutes, you ready _Josten?"_

"Yeah, I'm ready," Neil said breathily.

Towns let the door shut and Neil asked the Foxes to go inside and find seats. Neil's shoulders dropped when they disappeared and he gulped for air like it was scarce. Andrew turned to stand in front of him and pressed their foreheads together. Neil squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled again, evenly.

"I've got you okay? The worst part is over. _Nathan is dead._ Lola is going to prison. Nobody is going to touch you, do you understand me?"

Neil's features tightened for a moment and then relaxed. He opened his eyes and said "thank you."

"Josten, now." Towns barked.

Neil let him go and followed Towns, knowing Andrew was right behind him. Neil stared at the bottom corner of the Judge's podium until he was seated on the bench in front of everyone. The Foxes were sitting on the opposite side of Lola and her lawyer thankfully. Lola was wearing an orange jumpsuit which made the first wave of nausea hit him like a freight train. Orange was the Foxes color, he forced his eyes away and told himself he wouldn't let her ruin it.

The judge asked him to recount everything that happened from Binghamton to Baltimore. The Foxes sat and bared every nasty detail they hadn't asked about before. He kept his eyes on Andrew like he was mooring buoy and Neil was lost at fucking sea.

He couldn't feel his mouth moving or hear the words coming out. He told them everything he knew about the crimes Lola committed over the years. It was like he was possessed, he was just along for the ride in this other Neil Josten; telling every secret he'd ever kept. Then he was off of the stand, back at Andrews side. Towns was saying something to him, smiling. Everything reached his ears through a rush of blood. The Foxes and their smiles, reassuring hands and unwavering support were leading him through the courthouse.

Before he'd even processed that he was going to throw up he was in the men's bathroom with Andrew at his back. It was disgusting, being on the floor of a men's bathroom but he couldn't stop puking. He was back in the stolen cop car with Lola's knives carving into his skin. He felt every burn from the cigarette lighter. Every promise his father made about his slow death echoed in his eardrums. When he finally took a breath Andrew propped him against the wooden stall door. He wet a paper towel and wiped Neil's mouth before flushing the toilet.

"Neil Abram Josten." Andrew told him. Neil took a breath. "It's over."

Neil shook his head as the first few tears streaked down his face. He felt idiotic and childish but he couldn't stop them from pouring out. He heard Kevin's voice saying something outside the stall. Andrew yelled back and Kevin left. Neil could hardly speak for the acid burning through his esophagus.

"It will never be over." He shook his head violently still, and felt sick again. "I want to go home. Andrew I—I need to go home."

Andrew pulled him to his feet and wound an arm around his waist for support. They must have made the forty minute drive in twenty. The first thing Neil did was brush his teeth, crying silently the whole time.

Andrew felt wild, like he could rip a hole in someone for doing this. He felt so _angry_ all over again.

Neil fumbled into his pajamas and took the hot chocolate Andrew fixed him gratefully. He curled onto the couch sedately and asked Andrew if he would hold him. Andrew sat on the other side and Neil hurried into his lap, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He was shuttering, his whole body kept having tiny tremors. Andrew stroked his hair and whispered things in his ear because he didn't know what else to do. He was fuming, the desire to kill Lola and every other piece of shit gangster who ever laid a hand on Neil burned brighter than ever today. Being with Neil, his vulnerable body curled into Andrews own, ate away at that anger until he only felt powerless. Powerless to change things, to stop terrible things from happening. To do anything other than be here, now.

He couldn't help the only person who made him feel _okay_.

Neil's breathing evened out after hours of hyperventilating panic attacks. Andrew kissed the top of his head and adjusted them slowly so that the arm of the couch wasn't digging into his back. He was still sitting up but Neil was fast asleep in his lap, breathing warm huffs of air against his neck, he would sit like this forever if it meant this man could get some rest.

 


End file.
